Music is in Your Blood
by Destiny'sCurse
Summary: Someone who temped the Phantoms thoughts before has returned to the Opera Populaire. Grown up from the small girl she was, and with the talent to melt any mans heart with music.
1. Default Chapter

Music is in Your Blood

Introduction

One year after the tragedy that befell onto the Paris Opera House, my father (the Opera maestro) wrote me to come home. After all of my years in America he wants me to come and play the piano for the rest of my life in the orchestra.

Walking up the gangplank I fiddled with the silver pendant that my father sent me as a gift, it was beautifully handcrafted silver. The ruby rose entwined with a mask hung loosely around my neck on the silver chain. He told me that he had found it in the cellars of the Opera. Whenever I looked at it I was reminded of the stories of the Opera Ghost. They said he wore a mask just like it to hide his deformed face. Whenever I misbehaved my father or Madame Giry would threaten that the Ghost would come and take me away. Of course it was all nonsense. I had always convinced myself that he would not want me anyway because I was never good at anything. I could never dance, or sing like the other girls at the Opera house. Why would he want someone who sat at the piano for hours on end just to play?

I did not really want to return to Paris, for many reasons I suppose. My French was a little rusting even though it was my first language. I did not know if anyone that I knew from my childhood would still be there. I felt as if I were going to a place that I had never been before.

I was never good with traveling and I felt my stomach turn itself into knots as soon as I boarded. My face turned a sickly green every time I traveled somewhere. Turning around I said good-bye to one life as I slowly headed toward another.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

When I finally stepped onto the solid rock of the port, in Le Havre my whole body ached. The trip over was awful as I had thought it was going to be. After grabbing my belongings I started towards the transfer building.

I again boarded a small boat that would go down the Seine River to Rouen. There we would stay for the night and continue the journey to Paris the next morning. Now that we were not on the sea I could venture out onto the deck of the boat and watch the country go by.

In Paris the next day

As I walked down the gang plank I looked for my father. As far as I could tell he had not arrived yet. I sat down by a fountain in the square where my father was to meet me. Despite all my previous nervousness, it felt so good to be home. A light breeze flew through my hair and the faint smell of rain still clung to the air.

I had just pulled a small book out of one of my bags when a carriage pulled up in front of me. My father poked his head out the window and looked around. When he stepped out he looked right past me. He stared toward the dock but I caught his arm.

"Excuse me Sir? Would you happen to be looking for me?"

"Is that my little girl?" He asked with an obviously acted surprise. "That beautiful young woman?"

"Yes, Papa." I stood up and he embraced me in his arms.

"Welcome home little one, come come let me look at you." He spun me around a few times and then hugged me again.

"My, how you have grown, I hope you can play the piano just as beautifully as you ever could also."

With a slight smile I nodded. "I have been practicing."

"Well then shall we get going?"

"Yes. Papa? Are you still living in the Opera? Is that where I will be staying again?"

"Why, Yes of course. That is our home; it has been ever since your mother died. Why would we stay any where else?"

"I don't know, I just thought I would ask." I replied as I climbed into the carriage.

After my father got in and sat down beside me the carriage started toward the Opera Poplulaire. I sat quietly and looked out the window.

"Not much has changed, has it?"

My father looked at me with a smile.

"No my dear, it is as if you never left. You have been gone a long time though. Thirteen years can change somethings and not others. Do you happen to remember Carlotta? You played with her as a child."

"Yes I remember her well. She was never very kind and I did not like her that much."

Laughing my father looked at me.

"Well, nothing has changed about that then I suppose."

As the carriage pulled to a stop I looked out the window and starred up at the beautiful building.

"Here we are Bridget. I hope you fall back into place soon."

"Thank you Papa. I am sure that I will."

We walked up the stone steps and father opened the door as we both walked in. Everything was the same. From the floor up to the golden figures of the angels that watched over us. Yes I had been gone for a long time, but I was finally home.


End file.
